


and take our sweet little time about it

by sweatbeast420



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Assisted Oral, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Intentionally Broken Condom, M/M, Marijuana, Multi, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Piss, Sex as Bonding, Sibling Incest, Smoking, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Hoxton, Trans Male Character, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, pelvic floor dysfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27933223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweatbeast420/pseuds/sweatbeast420
Summary: In the middle of getting the sloppiest blowjob his brother has ever given him, Dallas comes up with a plan to fix what he's been privately referring to as "The Houston And Hoxton Issue".
Relationships: Dallas/Houston| Hoxton/Hoxton | James "Jim" Hoxworth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	and take our sweet little time about it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoyFuckWonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyFuckWonderland/gifts).



> please please mind the tags i'm an adult writing for adults about complex topics thank you

“So.” Dallas’ voice echoes through the kitchen as he enters the room, clearly too impatient for argument. “My baby brother and I were talking.”

Houston bobs into view then, blotchy from blushing, and comes to heel behind Dallas. Hoxton wants to smooth back the lick of hair that’s stuck to Houston’s forehead in fresh sweat.

“Not exactly talking I guess,” he adjusts himself in his slacks without a hint of subtlety, ”but basically. I realized though that he didn’t have very much experience giving head, and I thought to myself that I had two different problems I could tie together here, seeing as you two have made up but--” he tilts his hand side to side, ash from his cigarette settling into the hair on the back of his hand “-- still rocky, I know. And Houston, he doesn’t know yet how we settle problems directly here, how easy it goes.”

Hoxton isn’t looking so he doesn’t notice the way Houston’s eyes track the way Hoxton’s nails scratch bluntly at his collarbone under his shirt, but what Hoxton does notice is that this is not exactly how they usually solve problems, usually more of a mutual wrestlefuck than what sounds like… a court order. The irony isn’t lost on him, he knows that Dallas is giving him the opportunity to be on the other end of the time served, benefiting instead.

“All right.” Hoxton may not see all the circumstances that have lead to this exact outcome but he can take a hint. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

Dallas steps back and Houston dips into the space he occupied in front of Hoxton. He’s relieved when he leans back against the counter and Houston drops to his knees easily, not inexperienced enough to need coaxing at least.

Houston doesn’t need any further direction it seems, palming him through his slacks with his big heavy hands and his warmth makes Hoxton tense to avoid reacting. When the hair on the back of his neck stands up the scarred skin tenses painfully which just stretches the sensation all the way up his scalp and down his shoulders. Houston glances back sheepishly and when Dallas cocks an eyebrow at him he seems to realize he’s not leaving them alone, so he lurches to action like he’s all too aware of all his body parts.

“Well that’s your problem there, too tensed up. Relax, man.” Hoxton says, not unkindly. Houston grunts in reply, eyes focusing on the trail of hair winding down Hoxton’s belly and hands undoing his belt. His focus jars when he sees the angry scar tissue continues very far down, pocking his thighs, and when he looks up, even his mons too. He can also distinctly count two, three, four, little round burn marks dotting his inner thigh. The hem of Hoxton’s shirt brushes aside to reveal the knot of scar tissue where Houston’s own mistake had gotten the piece of rebar buried in Hoxton’s thigh. The fabric slides back into place too late, Houston knows he’s been staring too long.

Hoxton notices immediately, looking down at him with wide brown eyes, the hint of an incredulous smile the only thing covering up his snarl.

“C’mon sweetie,” Dallas says, slapping Houston’s face a couple times, harder than necessary, before straightening up to lean back next to Hoxton. “Give it a kiss.”

Houston obliges with an expression so desperately sweet that Hoxton almost doesn’t hear the smug hum of approval from Dallas over his own intake of breath. Hoxton’s arm comes down from where it’s been hovering by his collar like it’s been automated, gripping at Houston’s hairline. He tugs up, eyes sliding over to confirm with Dallas’ smile that _yes_ he did see the way Houston’s head bobbed along without resistance, mouth falling open.

“He seems to be more of a natural than you’ve let on.” Hoxton’s voice dips down like he’s talking about a kid in another room. 

“Mm, he’s had a little practice, but he could always use a little more.” Dallas’ response comes with a plume of smoke behind it and he takes another drag off his cig before Hoxton can grab for it.

Houston’s mouth finds its way back on him, a sensation that startles a loud moan from him, and Houston only squeezes his eyes closed when Hoxton starts grinding against his mouth. Houston’s clumsiness shows through, big swiping licks until he can get his lips around Hoxton’s dick and then he’s making wet sucking noises so loud Hoxton feels a hot spike of embarrassment. Houston’s drool is so hot as it drips down his swollen labia and the whole area is awake, skin jumping with electricity.

Houston’s lips are bruised dark as he pulls off to pant and it becomes apparent he’s forgotten to breathe for nearly a minute straight, swaying a little. He’s blowing cold air against his skin and Hoxton wants to yank him back in place, so he does, reaching down to angle himself just right that he can slam home in that red wet hole. Even on his knees slobbering all over another man Houston’s grunt is so masculine that Hoxton knows Houston can feel the way it makes his dick twitch.

Dallas puts his cigarette in Hoxton’s mouth and kneels, and the telltale crackling of a condom wrapper makes Hoxton look down, past Houston’s rapidly reddening face, to see Dallas’ sharp white teeth tearing open the packet.

Hoxton doesn’t have to express that the others use a condom to respect his neurotic tendencies surrounding cleanliness, doesn’t have to ask anything because Dallas is grinning, beckoning Hoxton to drop his gaze further down still.

“Just don’t want him making a mess all over the floor.” His grip glides wetly over his brother’s painfully red cock, heavy enough that when Dallas lets go it hangs. “And just in case you change your mind. I know I did.” It’s like the condom rolls on in slow motion, the practiced ease is not lost on Hoxton.

Dallas has been staring into Houston’s face and when he looks up, brushing his thumb over the head of Houston’s cock, Hoxton watches his eyes narrow. He lifts with a little difficulty from his knees, shoving Houston back on him as he goes. Hoxton bites his lip when the now burnt out cigarette leaves his mouth, but then Dallas is replacing it with a blunt he produces from inside his suit jacket. His hand hasn’t stopped putting pressure on the back of Houston’s head and so Hoxton helps balance it between his thumb and index finger so Dallas can flick the lighter to life.

One hit has his head throbbing before he can stop himself from whining and rubbing his thighs together, suddenly aware of every nerve more keenly. Dallas doesn’t wait for Hoxton to offer it back, and Hoxton thinks he must not know that he’s looking because his grin and how his eyes are fixed at where his friend’s connected to his brother’s mouth, lids lowering when Houston manages to push back Hoxton’s hood with his mouth alone and the harsh suck makes Hoxton hiss and pull again at his hair. It draws Houston just back enough, red claw marks on his forehead, and Dallas leans down to shotgun all the smoke into his mouth. 

Hoxton can feel Houston’s chest swell enough that it brushes his legs, and he wets his lips before opening his mouth. “If you do a good job, you can have a hit yourself. Not that I don’t like watching what you two have goin’ on.” 

“A reward.” Dallas is barely audible to Hoxton but it wasn’t directed at him. “And keep doing that with the head of his dick, he can hardly stand it.”

Hoxton gets another pull off the blunt and once again it hits him hard, head swimming and chest vibrating in such a way as to draw his attention to how humiliatingly hard his nipples have gotten. He doesn’t get time to recover before Houston is bracing his jaw and sucking him hard and Hoxton suddenly doubts his ability to keep upright.

“You got him now.” Dallas says to Houston, blowing the pot smoke down onto him. “Don’t give up.”

He’s right, unfortunately. Dallas knows him well enough to tell he’s about to cum, has whispered enough tips into Houston’s ear that his mouth is hitting the spot perfectly, and he’s starting to gain confidence. His legs hadn’t even started to tremble then, though they certainly are now. His breath is coming hard enough to be heard from his open mouth, he can’t pull Houston any closer and he can tell he won’t be able to stop trying. Hoxton can hear the rasp in Dallas’ voice and he already smoked more cigarettes than Hoxton did, so he knew at least that Dallas likely hadn’t known the weed was going to be that strong. He takes a moment to feel vindicated in how all things considered he’s handling his smoke fairly well, nevermind that he’s become unhinged enough to really make some noise. The very sober glint in Houston’s eye as he looks up and _listens_ sends hot shame dripping down his spine _._ He gets louder.

Hoxton feels like he’s directly under a hair dryer, he’s sweating and shivering from vertigo and the heat from Houston’s mouth almost engulfing him from below, hands on his thighs just under his ass pulling _Hoxton_ closer the way he’s doing the same right back to Houston. He’s dripping all the way down his calves, and it’s not all spit.

Finally, the rubber band snaps, and Hoxton is falling apart, eyes almost bulging out when he hears the gush, and he’s squirting all over Houston’s face, watching it run off in rivulets as Dallas shamelessly gropes Houston through it.

It’s almost funny, he watches Dallas whispering in his ear as Houston licks him clean during his aftershocks, but it’s not til he sees Houston physically winding up at whatever he’s saying that he knows he’s fucked. Dallas holds him back for a moment, licking up a rivulet of Hoxton’s cum off his jaw, but he releases him all too soon and Houston is surging up and pushing Hoxton onto the counter as he goes, only stopping once Hoxton’s head bangs against the wall, hardly giving it any pause because he’s too busy shucking his slacks, and god his balls are so heavy and there’s already some precum in the condom. Hoxton shouts but he can’t even figure out what he would say if he could form words, mayday?

Dallas’ hand covers his mouth, skin reeking of smoke in a soothing way.

“You didn’t think a little bit of smoke was gonna be his only reward, did you?” Dallas smiles so meanly he knows he only has Hoxton’s best interests at heart and that hurts _more._ He’s calculated though, and only removes his hand after he hears that Hoxton’s whine when Houston first presses the head of his cock inside is at a respectable volume.

There’s a moment of surprise from both Dallas and Hoxton that Hoxton’s inner muscles can withstand such sudden penetration, but then Houston’s second thrust hits deep, and Hoxton’s bladder empties, soaking Houston’s shirt and thighs and pants. Houston knows better than to let that phase him at that point, and hardly slows down at all, fucking up into him with all the stored up voyeuristic appreciation that’d been building the whole time. Houston’s oral fixation has still not been satisfied either it seems, as he keeps huffing out smoke in little puffs, still getting used to the burn of it in his lungs.

It’s not gonna take Houston long to cum, Hoxton can tell, his neck muscles are so tense his arms are shaking and aside from his breathing he’s dead silent. Dallas is rambling on with his dirty talk, and Hoxton tunes in just in time to hear him describe the way his dearest brother’s shaft is wrecking him, stretching him open, how he’s making him his _bitch_. Ironically, paying attention to what Dallas is saying distracts him from what his hands are doing, and neither Hoxton nor Houston notice that Dallas isn’t just playing with his balls, he’s creeping up and-- the snap of latex is hidden by the meaty contact Houston’s balls make with Hoxton’s ass.

Well, Houston almost notices, but only enough to stutter out “Hox, wh- what did you do, why does this feel so good, I don’t--” and then it’s too late because he’s as deep as he can go, pumping Hoxton full of cum. Houston strains against him as he cums over and over and the complete lack of control he has over himself is what brings Hoxton’s own orgasm out, and he’s thrashing around like he’s hooked up to a car battery. Houston’s heaving torso is the only retaining wall stopping Hoxton’s disorientation washing him out to sea.

“Oh fuck,” Houston sounds so wrecked, “the, um, condom, I’m so--”

“‘S not your fault, you dumbass.” Hoxton ignores Dallas’ expression when he hears how fucked out he sounds. Hoxton’s able to drape one arm over his eyes to block out the light, and point at Dallas weakly with the other. “It’s his.”

Houston whips his head around, still guilty like he doesn’t get that he’s not in trouble yet, but that expression melts off his face when he sees the all too familiar look Dallas gets about him when his scheme goes to plan.

It emboldens Houston enough to say, “Well, I’m sorry too, for enjoying it so much.” He pulls out slowly like he doesn’t want to go, and looks far too proud of the sound of all the cum dripping out of him in spurts as his inner muscles spasm, trying to close the gape.

Dallas comes in to dab at their foreheads with a hanky and gives them both patronizing kisses on the cheeks, saying “I think you both did very well.” With a grin big enough to piss both of them off. “Especially you Hoxton, damn.” he drags his fingers through the cum that’s threatening to drip down Hoxton’s ass and pushes it back inside him, not even needing to push him open to do so. “Do you two think you’re friendly enough to share a bath now? Neither of you can stand long enough for a shower, I know that.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for and betaed by my bf but he's just as much a cumbrained stoner as i am so please forgive any errors lol
> 
> lyrics in title from ball and biscut by the white stripes, check it out if you get the chance. sound of the summer.
> 
> this was written to slot roughly into the time after hoxton's breakout, as an event that causes hoxton and houston to work through their differences, which is a natural progression for dallas specifically to shoot for, not wanting his friend and bro to get along. in this version of events, houston and dallas have been entwined emotionally and sexually for a while and dallas specifically saves houston's first time w/ anybody who's not his brother so he can give that to Hoxton specially. that's not specifically necessary to the plot but i think all this shit up and then never explain so i'm tryin to do more of that. also this is my first completed fic in a long time and i'm finally confident enough to post my evil cartoon porn, [i'm on twitter too btw](https://twitter.com/sweatbeast420), feel free to message me here or there


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